Raining Down
by Gypsy
Summary: Revenge is a dish best served cold...and wet.


**Title: **Raining Down

**Author: **Gypsy4ever

**Disclaimer: **Yeah...not mine

**Authors Note: **I'm late to The Mentalist party, but I've been playing catch up these last few weeks. I used to watch all the time during the first 3 or 4 seasons, but lost touch with it. I will be watching the last season without fail, though. One of the characters that struck me was Tommy Volker. I thought his story ended much too soon. There was so much potential. This idea came to me, and I wondered if it had ever occurred to anyone else. In my search of fics concerning this theme, I have come across perhaps one or two, but not as many as I thought. So, when my need for a certain scenario is not filled by another writer, I myself must take to the page. It seems to me that when somebody wants to seek out revenge on someone else, the best way to make this happen is not to go the source itself, but outside of it. Red John knew this when he went after Jane's family. Why shouldn't Volker know it as well? He wants back at Lisbon? How better to get back at her then through somebody close to her? And since I've gained an unhealthy attraction to Jane Whump...well, I'll let you take it from there.

No real paring in this, but I do hint at Jisbon. I do support this ship, which is surprising for me, since I have been known to be a non-shipper for the most part. There have been other instances of course.

No spoiler that I know of. I tend to work from my own head cannon, and ignore what the show tells me.

Don't know when this will be updated or finished. Please understand, I write in spurts. I write whenever the bunny decides to bite and not before. I also have fics still swimming about in my head for other fandoms, mainly my NCIS/Supernatural/Original character magnum opus that will take up much of my time. I will try to work this into the time.

Thanks for looking, and please review. Your feedback feeds the bunny. It's ravenous.

Also, I would love fic recs. Hurt/Comfort is the fav, and for The Mentalist I will take romance as long as it isn't the main focus of the story. I like plot...not porn.

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><p>Sunny days in California where a dime a dozen. Most people who lived in the "Sunshine State" took them for granted. When the weather turned wet and dreary, it seemed a novelty. Patrick Jane took interest in such days, as he seemed to in most things that seemed to go outside of the normal.<p>

While most of the citizenry around him took to wearing rain coats and hoisting umbrellas above their heads, Jane enjoyed the feel of the rain on his skin. It was clean and refreshing somehow. Like the rain had the power to temporarily wash away the pain and sadness that seemed to follow him around like a shadow.

His cell phone, tucked away in the inside pocked of his suit coat, rang again for the third time in half an hour. Lisbon again. He ignored it. Their strong words to each other the previous day still rang strongly in his mind. He knew she had a point. He was obsessed, and getting worse all the time, with his search for Red John, the serial killer who took his beloved family from him. Teresa Lisbon was concerned, and rightly so, that Jane's continuous search for the dangerous killer would bring him ever closer to being a victim himself. What she didn't understand is that Jane knew that he was always on Red John's 'to do list', but that the killer was just not through with playing with him yet. Red John enjoyed the game. It was when he was no longer amused that Jane knew it would all come to an end either way. He didn't want to die anymore, but wasn't afraid too. He'd be willing to make that sacrifice if it meant putting an end to Red John's reign of terror.

He knew he was close. Closer than ever to putting a face to his worst nightmare. It would be over soon. He just hoped Lisbon would understand the outcome, whatever it may be.

The phone buzzed again, but this time signaling that a message had been left. Jane sighed. He knew he couldn't ignore her forever. He knew he wouldn't. Teresa Lisbon was the one thing in his life that he could never ignore, nor turn away from. He wouldn't acknowledge what that meant. Not yet. He still had too much to do. A past to bury before any future could be thought of.

Jane retrieved his phone and pushed the message button. As expected Lisbon's voice greeted him. He smiled at the sound in spite of himself.

"Jane? Where the hell are you? Get back here now. We have emergency. Jane? It's about Volker. Please. I'm sorry for before. Just call me."

The message ended, and Jane stopped walking to stare at the phone as if it would give him any further information. Volker? Lisbon's own personal version of 'Red John'? What the heck has that psycho done now? A sense of foreboding came over him as he pressed the button for Lisbon's phone. If that man tried anything with her…..

"Jane? Thank god. Where are you?"

"You sound worried, Lisbon. I knew you cared."

"Whatever. Just get back here. Volker's escaped. He was being transferred to the hospital, and killed two paramedics on the way. Faked an attack of appendicitis."

"Volker killed them?" Jane asked with genuine surprise. "Not usually his style. I thought he didn't like getting his hands that dirty."

"Well, they do say prison changes a man. You should know that, shouldn't you?"

"Ha-ha, Teresa. A joke. Very good. There's hope for you yet."

"You're a smartass, Jane. Get back here. I need you here. And….Patrick…I'm sorry. About before. I shouldn't have snapped, I just….you scare me sometimes."

Jane had the good sense to feel guilty. She had that effect on him. "I know. I scare myself sometimes, too. I'm on my way. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry too."

He ended the call before she could say anything else. Not that it mattered. It was what they didn't say that spoke louder than any words they could express.

He was sliding the phone back into the inside pocket when he felt it. That feeling of having someone behind him. Too close behind him. The feeling froze him to the spot.

Well, that…and the hard, cold muzzle of the gun that was suddenly pressed against the back of his neck.

Well, crap. Not going to be his lucky day, is it?

"How sweet." A recognizable voice said near his right ear. "Now, take the phone out again, slowly, and hand it to me.

"Volker." Jane said in an even tone, not wanting to wind the man with the gun up. Not yet anyway. There was always later. "To what to I owe the pleasure?"

"Shut up. Do as I say." The gun was pressed harder into his neck.

"Okay, okay. Ease up." He pulled the phone out, slowly as was asked, and handed it behind him. As soon as the phone was taken from him, he felt a vice like grip take hold of his arm.

"Now, we're going to take a walk. Around the corner to the left. Go."

"Oh come on." Really, he was getting a little tired of this. If someone would had warned him that getting involved with the CBI would be putting a big, round target on his back, he would have thought twice. Although, he considered, he already had that target. It was just working with law enforcement that made it visible to all other forms of criminal lowlife.

A sigh sounded near his ear. He could feel the soft, warm breath touch his skin and he shivered a little. This was what the creeps felt like.

"Patrick. I know you're a reasonable man. Do you really want to endanger these other people out on this lovely day? If you don't come with me, I may be forced to show my anger. You don't want that to happen to you? I mean, look over there. That sweet little boy with him mama? What a shame if something where to happen to him."

Jane looked. He couldn't help it. Children where a weak spot, and this son of a bitch knew that. The boy was no more than four years old, dressed in a little yellow rain slicker and carrying a threadbare stuffed rabbit that was getting increasingly soaked. He was holding the hand of his mother, a young woman who was looking both ways before attempting to cross the street, even though traffic was at a minimum on this rainy day. Jane could not allow anything to happen to the boy, nor could he bear anything to happen to his mother, leaving the small child alone in the world. Damn Volker. He knew the buttons, and he pushed them with glee.

"Okay. Just keep your cool, Volker. I'll do what you want."

"Yes. I know you will, Patrick."

Volker nudged him forward, and Jane went. Toward what, he didn't know, but suspected he was about to find out. He turned the corner into a wide ally, and was greeted with the sight of a larger size black SUV. It looked like a thousand others that took to the roads these days, people having little imagination in their modes of transport and relying on the motor industry to tell them what sort of vehicle they should be driving. He knew without a doubt that Volker had chosen this automobile, stolen most likely, exactly for its commonplace appearance. A glance at the rear license plate showed that several numbers had been hidden by mud, and he would bet without fear of losing that the front plate was missing. Volker was not stupid, and would not attempt to kidnap him in broad daylight leaving any kind of clue behind.

Volker pushed his forward till Jane was pressed close between the SUV, and Volker.

"Stay still. I don't want to shoot you, Patrick. Don't make me do anything I'm going to regret later."

"Oh, trust me." He couldn't help but laugh, in spite of the dangerous situation he found himself him. Jane realized he had become desensitized to finding himself in dangerous situations. Lisbon had once observed that Jane didn't have to go looking for trouble. It found him itself without any help. "You are going to regret this."

"Perhaps." Volker replied. "We'll see anyway."

Jane winced as his arms where roughly pulled behind him. Stiff, scratchy rope was wound around his wrists, and knotted tightly.

"Stay quiet, and I won't gag you."

Volker opened the rear passenger door of the SUV, and pushed Jane toward it.

"Get in. Lie down on the seat. Make yourself comfortable, because we've got a long drive ahead of us."

Jane did as he was told. He was under no allusions that he could make any sort of fight or escape against Volker. He would have to bid his time and give his mind time to come up with a plan. That, and give Lisbon time to find out what happened, and come after him with guns a-blazing. He knew this was Volker's plan as well. Not the guns a-blazing part, obviously, but he knew Volker would be calling Lisbon at some point to gloat about stealing her consultant, and to make some sort of impossible demand for his return. As kidnappings went, this one was turning out to be par-for-the-course so far.

"Any chance you'll be letting me in on your dastardly plan anytime soon?" Yeah, sometimes he just couldn't help himself.

Volker had the gall to smile at him. It was a practiced smile. Designed to look charming. It made Jane's blood run cold. "It's simple, Patrick. First, I need out of this state. You are my ticket for that. Second, I want Teresa to suffer. You are also my ticket for that. If you do what I say, you might live long enough to see her again. Well, before I kill you both anyway. Hey, at least you'll die together, right? Now shut the hell up before I decide to beat you into unconsciousness. I doubt that would be pleasant for either of us."

The door was slammed shut. Jane closed his eyes and pictured Lisbon. Her dark hair, and beautiful green eyes. Damn it all. To stay alive, to keep her alive, he would do as Volker wanted. He was looking forward to seeing Lisbon in all of her angered glory once she found them, though. He didn't doubt who would win this game. He would always bet on Lisbon.

The SUV roared to life, and moved forward toward the second part of the game. The Knight had been taken. Check.


End file.
